Creed
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Summary: If the wire hadn't been cut at the end of Catching Fire, if the tributes of the 75th Hunger Games had never been rescued, if Katniss had never been the rebels' Mockingjay... what would have happened? Follow Vaper Creed, a young girl from District 5, as she faces the 76th Games, being forced to make choices that weigh survival against humanity and life against love.
1. Prologue: If the Wire Wasn't Cut

**Pick up a hard copy of Catching Fire (the book). It should be on page 370. In case your book is different, here's the context: Katniss and Johanna are alone in the jungle in the 75th Games. They're unrolling wire from a metal cylinder as part of Beetee's electrical trap.**

 **Note: This is just a prologue. The rest of the story is from Vaper's perspective.  
**

Both of our hands are still on the metal cylinder when I see a knife flying towards us from the top of the slope, heading straight for me. I give a cry of fear and Johanna whips around. She lunges at me with the metal cylinder in hand, to knock me down. She's bringing the cylinder to my left temple at an alarming speed and I'm thinking she must have somehow had a secret alliance with Brutus and Enobaria when the knife impales her head. The cannon sounds almost before she falls.

Peeta howls my name. "I'm here! Peeta, I'm here!" I shout. As I say it, I fire two arrows up the hill. One finds its mark in Enobaria's eye. The other catches Brutus in the shoulder. I scale a tree. I wasn't really looking when I picked it, though, and the first limb I put my weight on snaps. Enobaria's cannon sounds and I fire another arrow at Brutus. It misses.

"Katniss!" Peeta shouts again, though I don't answer him this time. Footsteps thunder behind me and I duck behind a curtain of vines. Finnick, his skin made shadowy by the medicine, dashes past my hiding place calling for me and Johanna. The turn of events in the last minute has disoriented me somewhat, so I take a few minutes to sort things out. Johanna took Enobaria's knife for me while trying to knock me unconscious. Finnick doesn't know who's dead, even though he must have passed the site where Johanna was killed. I take this to mean he's not with Brutus. I have to go back out there. I'm not doing Peeta any good holed up here.

I go back to where I dropped the coil. Johanna's body is gone, but the wire is still there. I follow it back to the beach and hear a groan. Beetee's there, unconscious on the sand. The groan must have been involuntary. "Beetee?" I say. I shake him a little, but it's no use. As I move him, though, the moonlight reflects off of a knife in his hand with wire wrapped around it. Now I remember the piece of wire that Beetee had wrapped around a branch of the lightning tree. Twenty-five, thirty feet long. At first I had assumed it was to be saved for use after the trap had been carried out, but now I see it's a sort of backup plan. In case Johanna or I was injured as we were unrolling the wire. I drop the knife in the water and it sinks beyond my sight.

I stare down into the water until the cannon brings me back. Peeta doesn't call for me, which means either it was his kill or his cannon. "Peeta!" I scream. Another cannon answers me.

"Katniss!" Finally I hear Peeta. I run towards the sound of his voice and suddenly, Brutus is running alongside me. I shoot him and two cannons fire, one after the other. One for Brutus, and one for someone else. I've lost count of who's left. It could be anyone at this point. I'm too tired to go on and turn around to watch the hovercraft pick up Brutus. I run through the remaining tributes on my fingers. Only Peeta and I are left, and Finnick. I can still hear him calling my name. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to get myself killed in taking out the others. I can't kill Finnick. But I can't kill Peeta, either. If I kill myself, it's likely the Gamemakers will take it out on Peeta or Gale or my mother or Prim. The Games will be over, and Snow will have won. The only option is to kill Finnick, as much as I will hate doing it.

"I'm here! Peeta! Peeta!" I shout. I try to make it as desperate a cry as I can, hoping Finnick will hear and think I'm in danger. We're down to the last three and I hardly know him, but I am almost positive Finnick won't leave me to the mercy of the clock. I ready my arrow.

I'm right. Finnick comes crashing through the trees not ten seconds after I call. "I'm sorry," I whisper, sending the message with the arrow that flies straight into Finnick's heart. He falls instantly. I start to run away, waiting for the cannon, but instead I hear Finnick's voice, hoarse from running and shouting and death.

"Katniss," he says. I turn and move closer so I can hear him better. "I know why you did it. But-"

"I'm sorry," I repeat. As if those two words can fend off what I know he's about to tell me.

"Katniss. You're going to be the victor. Tell Annie I love her." It's the last thing I will ever hear from Finnick Odair. His cannon sounds.

Killing myself still won't play well with the Capitol audience, but it's my only choice now. I should have let Finnick kill me. No use dwelling on it, though. If Finnick was right, I don't have much time to get Peeta into the hands of the doctors. I rack my brain for a little while, then have a brilliant idea. The water! The lightning will strike soon. If I go into the water, I'll be electrocuted, or, if I'm timing it wrong, drowned. I'm just about to dive in when it pulls me up short.

A cannon.

A horrible wail forms inside of me and works its way up, only to get caught in my throat. Claudius Templesmith's voice is dripping with sympathy, and I don't think it's false. "Ladies and gentlemen," he says in a melancholy voice much different than his usual bright tone, "I present to you Katniss Everdeen, victor of the third Quarter Quell, the tribute of District 12."

My knees buckle and I crumple on the sand. No matter how much I wish it, the Gamemakers won't send the lightning. A ladder hangs down, waiting for me to grab on, but I ignore it.

I am the victor of the 75th Hunger Games.

And Peeta is dead.


	2. I

**This is mostly based off of the books, with a few movie references. So, go read the books and come back later. I will probably have come up with a bit more.**

The rest of my family is asleep. Somehow, they've convinced their bodies to ignore the dawn light that's been coming over the horizon for fifteen minutes. Even the sun is lazy today.

Rising from my bed, I stare out the window. The sun sends red streaks through the sky, making it look like someone has lit it on fire. Fire. This thought sends me back to two years ago, when Katniss Everdeen came out of the doors of the Remake Center in the Capitol ablaze with orange tongues of flame. When she and her fellow tribute, Peeta Mellark, stood on a gold chariot behind 22 other tributes who would later die in the Hunger Games. No, don't think about the Games. Don't think about reapings. Don't think about children like me who, on this day years ago, have been selected to die for the rebellion of our ancestors.

My twin brother, Quinn snores as if to wake the whole district. I decide to let him sleep, because today is the reaping and sleeping is a way to avoid thinking about it. Being 13, we're both eligible for the Hunger Games, but neither of us have taken tesserae. Quinn is the only one worried about us. I've been telling him there's nothing to worry about, but he's still scared. I am, too. If District 5's escort, Fantasia Gemstone, reads one of our names from that tiny piece of paper… I've decided not to think that far ahead.

I take a long bath. The water's cold, as our water heater is solar powered and the expensive battery that stores the power needs replacing. Wrapped in a rough towel, I dig through a box in a room I share with my two brothers. At the bottom is my only dress, a tight, sleeveless black velvet thing. I lay it on my bed for later. It's my mother's, from when her family lived in the Capitol before running away. Her father had been arrested for an unnamed crime and the entire family, even the children, were accused of helping. After Peacekeepers arrived at their door summoning them to court the next week, they gathered a few belongings and ran. Mother, 9 at the time, was the only one who survived the hovercraft long enough to make it to 5. She took the place of a recently deceased child who happened to look like her and took her name, Abagael. She says in the Capitol, black is the color of mourning. Fitting for a reaping dress.

I brush my rust-colored hair and twist it into a small bun behind my head. Nearer to the top of my box is a simple white shirt with dark blue leggings – also from my mother. I put them on and head downstairs to wait for my family. Our small candy shop feels deserted without them down here working. Mother got the shop from the previous owners when she turned 18. Their daughter had died in the recent Quarter Quell, and they were too old to continue making the candy. My mother was their adopted niece, so they gave the shop to her.

I grab the "Staff Only" peppermints from under the counter. I don't make the candy, not since I've proved I have absolutely no talent in the craft, but Mother lets me work at the desk and eat the peppermints. We eat a lot of the candies we make, actually. Not many people in District 5 have time for candy. But we get enough money from those who do, like Topp Kiedar. He comes in now and tosses two coins onto the counter.

"We're closed," I say, but I give him the candy anyway. He pops a bright yellow butterscotch into his mouth. Topp's always loved peppermints, but ever since he discovered butterscotch, he can't get enough.

"Too late now, Vape," he says, hugging the bag to his chest. "You won't get these back." Topp loves to give people nicknames. He calls his sister Marchen "Mar," and Quinn is simply "Q." He gave me the name Vape, since my real name is Vaper.

"I see that," I say. "Those are lucky, you know. You're going to want to save some for the reaping."

Topp eats another two before answering. "I actually came here to wish you good luck today. And to get some candy. But mostly to wish you good luck."

I grin. "Good luck to you, too, Topp, dear," I warble in my best Capitol accent. Not to brag, but I do have the best Capitol accent in the district.

"Thank you, Vaper," he squeaks. While my Capitol accent is the most realistic, Topp's is the funniest. We laugh so hard even Quinn's loud snoring temporarily ceases. Finally he says, "I have to go. My mother will want some of these. Also, I'm hungry."

"I keep telling you, you can't fill a belly on candy," I groan.

"You can if you eat half a bag!" he says as he walks out the door.

"Don't make yourself sick," I call after him. He doesn't hear me, but Gary, my older brother, does. He plods down the stairs and yawns.

"You two were so loud, I couldn't hear Quinn. How's a man to get any sleep?" he says.

"The only man in the house is Father," I retort, tossing him the bag of peppermints. "Don't eat all of those." In reply, he stuffs four into his mouth and goes back upstairs, presumably back to bed.

 **Having writer's block for this one - for some reason my brain wants me to work on Secret Child. :/ Please leave a review on how it is so far :)**


	3. II

I walk to the solar power plant where my uncle works as a security officer about half an hour from here. It's built in the best spot in the district to collect the most sunlight, so many plants thrive there. I have a little pond near it where I get a good bit of my family's food. 5 is the richest non-Career district, but that doesn't mean we eat well. The mayor of District 6, transportation, has a rivalry with the mayor of 5, so we don't get our food delivered. We have to send ten men every month on the food train going to 9, 10, and 11. Often we make meals of emergency rations, because every man that isn't drunk is working and every man that isn't working is drunk. Topp's father and a couple other men are the only ones who can be consistently counted on to get the food.

We've eaten a little better than the rest of our borough ever since I learned to hunt. Not hunting like Katniss Everdeen, but killing squirrels and such with sharp rocks or drowning them. I'm fast, quiet, and have swift hands, so squirrels are fairly to catch. Rabbits are faster and therefore harder, but I usually catch them. My pond is a great place to catch animals as they drink. Most of the plants are edible, so we have salad often.

Two of the four-year-olds from the other side of the borough are playing, weaving daisy chains from dandelions. District 5 has two boroughs, each about the size of District 12, called Romulus and Remus, after the men who founded an ancient city called Rome. Legend has it that Romulus actually killed Remus, but no one cares about that.

Most of my friends and I live on the edge of Romulus, although Marchen Kiedar's bedroom is in Remus. For some reason, the Kiedars' home is on the border between the two boroughs. I think their house is very old – there's certainly evidence – and the border was moved after it was built.

Two hours, a bucket of dandelions, and six dead squirrels later, it's about time for breakfast. At least, for reaping day. Otherwise we would have had breakfast long before now. I head home to find everyone awake. Luckily, Six made a truce for reaping day and sent some bread and apples. They're good. We make a breakfast of a loaf of bread, apple slices, and squirrel meat. Mother decides to save the dandelions and the four remaining squirrels for lunch. We'll have the rest of the bread and apples for dinner.

Father doesn't eat anything. He's drunk. Not very, luckily, or Quinn and I would have to go to the reaping in winter clothes to hide the bruises. That happened two years ago. Mother didn't come at all, she was in so much pain. She was horrified to learn that Amber had been reaped, and even more so when she found out that Katniss was calling her Foxface. But that's a different story.

We step around Father, who is now passed out on the stairs, to get dressed. My brothers, the gentlemen, dress in the small bathroom to give me privacy. I'm going to need a new dress next year – it barely fits. In fact, I've made plans to go to market tomorrow when Gary knocks on the door.

"Vaper, we've been waiting for fifteen minutes. This isn't the Capitol; are you done yet?" he asks.

I open the door and try to look sorry, even though I'm not. My brothers are nice, but I appreciate the alone time when I can get it. "It's only one o'clock. We have a minute to spare," I tell Gary.

He grins. "Mother said to come get you for lunch."

I'm at the stairs before he's finished. "Well, are you coming?" It's a good thing Father is off the stairs, because soon we're pushing and shoving our way down. Mother would scold, us roughhousing in our reaping clothes, so it's lucky that she doesn't pass. We have a game in our family – Gary always serves, so the first one to sit down gets served first. Mother and Father are excluded, of course, though we always make sure to serve them right after the winner. Mother insisted.

After lunch, Quinn and I sit on the edge of my bed waiting for Mother to call us downstairs. We're silent for a few moments, then Quinn says, "Who do you think they'll pick?"

I elbow him gently. "I don't like betting."

"Not for betting," Quinn says. "Just asking."

"It's random, Quinn," I say.

"What if it's not? They might rig it. Think about the victor's children that are always going in."

"It's probably not rigged," I tell him dismissively.

"You don't know that, Violet," he says.

"No one knows that."

Quinn gets up angrily. "Well, I do," he says and leaves the room. He can be as stubborn as a mule sometimes. And thick-skulled, too.

We sign in as usual at the reaping. For once, Quinn seems fine while I'm the one fretting. I stand there for a few seconds at the sign-in station while the Peacekeeper is repeating, "Young woman, I need your hand." The girl behind me has to poke me a couple times before I notice.

Peacekeepers herd us into a roped-off octagon, where I find Quinn and grip his hand like there's no tomorrow. Now that I think about it, there might not be a next week, at least not for me. But I won't get anywhere thinking like that. Topp makes eye contact with me and smiles. I try to smile back, but I'm not sure it works.

The mayor of District Five sits next to our two victors. All three are chatting about their dresses or something like that. I smile to myself – this year's tributes are going to have a time of it, with two female victors. We used to have five – Porter Millicent Tripp, Chimins Migartion, Barch Collins, and a male and a female that no one can remember for some reason, which is funny, because they were our Quarter Quell tributes. Porter died in the Capitol after being accused of helping the rebels. So we only have Chimins and Barch now. Both are female. What fun.

After a few minutes of waiting, Fantasia Gemstone bobs onto the stage, in a feathery dress that reaches her ankles and wreaths her face in blue fluff – but it's the wrong face, not Fantasia's. Everyone is confused until the mayor steps up to the podium.

"Welcome to the 76th Hunger Games!" she says. You'd think she comes from the Capitol, with all the excitement she brings to the reapings. She's crazy, I say.

"I know you're confused about this change of escorts. Fantasia Gemstone has been promoted to District One for her marvelous work!" She pauses, like she expects us to clap. She looks slightly disgruntled when we don't. "Our new escort has recently been promoted from..."

It feels like the entire crowd is holding their breath. Apparently, no one remembers this new escort, although she looks familiar. No doubt she was the escort for Three or some little place like that.

The mayor continues. "...District 12! Please welcome Effie Trinket!" She claps loudly, encouraging us to as well. A few men in a corner do, but everyone else is too astonished to do anything.

"Well!" Effie says. "It's wonderful to be seeing some fresh faces. I am so excited..." She goes on like that for a little while. I tune her out.

I start listening again around the time she trills, "It's time to pick our female tribute!" I grip Quinn's hand even harder and hold my breath as Effie walks to the big glass ball. Even from here I can hear her shoes. _Click-click, click-click, click-click_ across the Justice Building terrace. She whips out a little paper and my heart stops for a moment as she's reading the name, then starts again when she's finished, faster and wilder than it's ever been before.

"Vaper Creed," Effie says.

Everyone looks around, then makes a path for me. I let go of Quinn's hand, as much as I don't want to. As much as I want to stay here and force them to have Peacekeepers dragging me up there kicking and screaming. As much as I'd like to do that, I walk up to the stage and shake hands with Effie Trinket.

And begin counting down to my death.

 **Crud, that was long. Sorry.**


	4. III

**Sorry for the cliffhanger. Prepare for another. Also, the chapter repeated itself for some reason. Fixed now.  
**

 **It just occurred to me I should thank you for reviewing. Maddy, you're super awesome. I definitely would have abandoned this story by now if not for you :D  
**

Quinn is staring with his mouth hanging open like he can't believe it. I don't blame him. I'd be the same way if I was in his position. I watch the edges of the crowd, watch people passing coins as bets are lost. _Thirteen_. One coin. _From Romulus._ Two coins.

"Do we have any volunteers?" Effie pipes.

 _No volunteers._ Three coins.

"Alrighty then!" Effie says. She draws out the _L_ , so it sounds like "Alllllllrighty." "Let's select our male tribute."

When I was reaped, I had honestly thought I was done with surprises for the day. I was wrong.

"Garrison Creed," Effie says. I slap my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. No coins are passed in the margins. No one betted that the tributes would be siblings. _Not Gary,_ I think. _Anyone but Gary._

You really do have to be careful what you wish for. Multiple bets are cashed in when a voice rings out. "I volunteer!" I'm so elated that Gary won't have to die that I don't notice who's volunteered until he's on his way to the stage. More coins move around when a tear rolls down my cheek. _Anyone but Gary except you._

"That's the spirit! What's your name, young man?"

He swallows hard. "Quintus Creed."

Effie's about to say something, but she's stopped by the look on my face. It looks like she understands. She's sorry for us, I can see that much, but of course she won't let it show.

"My goodness! It looks like we've got a set this year!" she exclaims. "Let's give a big round of applause to the tributes of the 76th Hunger Games!"

A few drunks clap. Most are silent. Our friends – Topp, Marchen, and some others – are crying. What breaks my heart most is Mother, the strongest of our family, our rock, weeping. And Gary. He's not crying, but his expression says he'll never forgive Quinn for this. Never. Not if he dies. Not if he lives. Especially not if he lives, because that'll mean I'm dead.

The mayor makes a little motion with her hand. Now we're supposed to shake hands and go into the Justice Building, like everyone before us. I throw my arms around Quinn's neck instead, and he hugs me tighter than I would have thought possible. After a couple seconds, we come apart, but not completely. Quinn doesn't let go of my hand until the Peacekeepers are separating us to say our goodbyes. They put us in different rooms on the second floor of the Justice Building and we wait for our friends and family.

Apparently, Mother and Gary are visiting Quinn first, because Topp and Marchen Kiedar are the first to come in. "You have 5 minutes," the Peacekeeper says as he closes the door.

Marchen gives me a hug. She's still crying, and her tears wet my dress. Topp just holds my hand until Marchen lets go, which takes about three minutes. Then he hugs me as well, making me blush despite everything.

"If you don't come back," he says, "I've had a crush on you since second grade. If you do, forget I said anything." He kisses me and they're gone.

I sit for a moment, trying to remember what my name is. My lips are tingling. Then Mother and Gary come in and everything is hugs and kisses and tears. After too short a time, the Peacekeeper opens the door. I give them both a hug and say goodbye and then they're gone, too. I sit in silence for the next ten minutes. No one else comes. They've really cracked down – you used to be allowed fifteen minutes per visitor. I'm wondering what else they've changed when the Peacekeeper, a woman with hair so curly I'm tempted to call it fluffy, opens the door and gestures for me to come out. I find Quinn's out here already. I grab his hand. The Peacekeeper leads us to the elevator. We only have one floor to go down, which seems it should be quick, but it takes somewhere around ten seconds in that smelly box.

When we finally get down there, we head for a back entrance and are immediately swarmed by cameramen. Two Peacekeepers drive them back while Fluffy escorts us to the car, where Effie Trinket is waiting. It's a sleek silver thing that makes no noise at all, unlike any machine I've ever seen before. Fluffy ushers us in and Effie shows us how to use the gray straps that will keep us in our seats on the bumpy road. Seatbelts, she calls them. She doesn't wear one, of course, since she doesn't want to mess up her "Chesapeake Pomp" dress. I ask who Chesapeake Pomp is, and she looks offended.

"Why, only the Capitol's best fashion designer! She... oh, but you wouldn't know that, would you. Poor dears." She titters like this for the whole ride. It's only about ten minutes, and I know she means well, but it's quite irritating.

There are even more cameras at the train station. We find out just how loud Effie can be when she shouts for everyone to back off. Everyone is so surprised that they do. Katniss Everdeen is going to be a mentor this year. I wonder what she thinks of it.

The train is even more incredible than anything I've ever seen. From the outside, it looks like a glorified version of the car – sleek, silver, and only ten times larger – but on the inside, I imagine it's a replica of your average residence in the Capitol. It's plush and sophisticated all at the same time, all glass and steel and fur and materials I've never even heard of. I'm not sure how much of the fur is real. Effie keeps pointing out how much better this train is than the last one she was on.

"That one, the one on Katniss's Victory Tour? _So_ last year. This, see, this couch? Such an update," she says. Quinn and I decide not to tell her that that train ride took place last year.

Effie says we can do anything we want on this train. She shows us to our rooms, which take up one train car each. I honestly don't see why we need our own rooms – since District Five shares a border with the Capitol, we don't even need to take a train. See, if we were in District 12, we'd definitely need a train. That journey would be a little less than a day. But in a car, averaging 70 miles per hour, the trip from District Five to the Capitol would take less than three hours. In this train, we'll be there in about one.

Everyone gathers in the sitting room to watch the recap of the reapings. Out of the 24, I manage to remember about five. A slightly overweight girl from District One. A twelve-year-old from District Three who's obviously grown up in the local community home. There's me, being called, no nonsense. I actually appear kind of bored.

"Well, she looks like she's on top of things," says Claudius Templesmith, the announcer and commentator. Then Gary is called and I slap my hand over my mouth. You can still hear a bit of a shriek. Quinn volunteers and it's obvious that I'm crying. Claudius's guest commentators look extremely surprised.

"Oh, my," one woman says. She dabs at her eyes with a silk handkerchief. "How moving. I suppose we'll have a wonderful Games this year!" If she wasn't just an image on the screen, I'd punch her and give her something real to cry about. They continue playing the videos. I notice a few others. There's a tall, buff boy from Six who does nothing but weep. It's hard to feel sorry for him, but I manage. No one can believe that the girl from Eight is eligible – she looks to be twenty. What's worst is the District 12 reapings. I swear right then that I won't be victor, and I'm pretty sure Quinn does too. Katniss Everdeen's expression mirrors mine.

Because the new escort for District 12 calls the name Primrose Everdeen.

And this time, Katniss can't volunteer.

 **MG I'M SO SORRY, I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I WROTE THAT ;-; ;-;**


End file.
